The Big Surprise
by DisneyBeatleTurtlefan94
Summary: When Frankie gets sick, how do the rest of the gang make out at their first big room? And, by the end, who gets a very special birthday present?  And what is it, might I add?  Read to find out!
1. Chapter 1: The Unwelcomed Illness

"_Daaaaawn,  
>Go away back where you beloooong.<br>Girl we caaaan't  
>-<em>_**ahem-**__Change the places where we were born.  
>Before you saaaaaay,<br>That you want me.  
>I want you to think,<br>What your family would say.  
>Think-<br>What your throwing-__**ahem!-**__way  
>Now think what the future would be with a poor boy like meeee.<br>Meee-ee._

_Dawn,  
>Go away I'm no good for you.<br>Dawn,  
>Go away I'm no-"<em>

"Alright, kill it- 't sounds fine," Tommy said, removing his hands from the guitar and waving them in the air to alert everyone that they ('they' meaning _'he'_) were done with the song.

"Alright, fellas," he said to their rhythm section, "Better get this stuff outside before the taxi gets here." As they hauled their equipment up the stairs and out of the basement, Tom called the boys (Bob, Nick, and Frankie) into a tight huddle for their usual "pep-talk" which Tom liked to give before every show they did.

"Okay, boys-this is it," he began, "We got two hours 'til we play our first big room! Now all we gotta do i-"

" huh… _HA-__**shoo**__," _Frankie sneezed.

"Blesha," Tommy gestured quickly to Frankie, and continued his lecture, "Now, where was I? Aw, yeah! All we gotta do is stay focused. That might be kind of a stretch…'specially in Nicky's case…"

"Aye, I heard that, you Madigan!"

"C'mon fellas," Bob cut in, "Tommy's actually made a good point-"

"Thank you," Tommy interrupted, directly at Nicky. He crossed his arms and smiled very conceitedly (as he always did). Until his smile faded into a frown as he overheard Bob whisper to Nicky, "For once…"

"_Hey_!"

As Nicky tried to muffle his laughter, Bob continued.

"A good show doesn't just _happen. _You have ta make it happen! Now, we gotta be so on top tonight that the audience is gonna think they're in-"

"H- _hup'CHOO_!"

"Salud," Nicky said hastily, as Bob continued, "They're gonna think they're in Mount Rushmore!"

"So…" Tommy chimed in, "Who's ready ta put on the best damn show we've ever had?"

"I'm in!"

"Le's do this!"

"ah-AHH…_HUUUR_-SHOOO!"

The three boys turned around to find that the source of the massive sneeze was Frankie. After blowing his nose into his hankie, Frankie sniffled, looked up and giggled shyly. The boys looked at each other, and then back to Frankie.

"Uhh," Bob began, "You okay, Frank?"

"Yeah…" Tommy added suspiciously, "Sounds like ya getting' sick…"

"Huh? *_sniff* _Me-sick? No way: I-i'm fine," Frankie lied, "Just-_ahem!- _ju-just this room; 't needs dusting, that's all. _huh- __**HUH'SHOO**__. *sniff* _Hehe…_"_

'_Ah, fungul," _Frankie thought as his friends stared at him, "_I_ _**am **__gettin' sick! Not tonight; any night but __tonight__! Man, 's it hot in here, or is it just me? Aw, shit! What if I got a fever? No __**way **__is Bobby gonna let me get away with __**that **__one__**. **__Christ, of all night's ta get sick, it had ta be toni-'_

"Frankie? FRANKIE!"

"H-huh? W-what?"

"I said 'do ya feel feverish'," Bob remarked.

"Who me? N-no! I—" But before Frankie could finish, he broke into a coughing fit. As he coughed, Bob looked at Nicky and Tommy with a façade of worry.

After Frankie's coughing had dulled and eventually stopped, he sighed exhaustedly as Bob felt his forehead.

"Mhm," Bob hummed to himself, "Just as I thought."

"Wha's goin' on with 'im, doc," Tommy said sarcastically.

"Frankie's got a spike fever," Bob replied looking at his tired friend, "I should've known by the chills-"

"W-w-what are you talkin' about," Frankie said defensively-his voice going hoarse, "It's jus' cold down here, that's all! If we turned off the damn air conditioner once in a while- _huh, HA'shoo!-"_

"Can it, Castelluccio," Nicky replied, as Tommy pointed his hand at the ground as a sign for Frankie to sit down. Considering how horrible Frankie felt, he sat down without argument as Nicky continued, "There's no point in hidin' it, we—jeeze, you look like Hell."

Nick was right- he _did_ look like Hell. His face was flushed and sweaty, his nose and ears tinted pink, and bags fell under his exhausted eyes. Why did this have to happen _tonight?_

"Hang on, hang on," Tommy intervened, "So what does that mean for tonight? I mean, we gotta do the show-"

"_We _will do the show," Bob interrupted, while pointing at Frankie, "But _he _won't."

"What?"

"WHAT!"

"Wh-what? _Atc'hoo!"_

"Ya fuckin' kiddin' me, right," Tommy said angrily to Bobby, "Bob-Frankie _is _the show! He's **gotta **do it!"

"Looking like that?" Bob retaliated still pointing at Frankie, and then crossing his arms, "I'm sorry, but nobody-NOBODY- in his condition deserves to be forced to perform. He's _sick, _Tommy! He's gotta rest!"

"So he can do it after the show," Tommy replied coolly, heading in Frankie's direction, "Everyone gets sick; and most people jus' tough it out and live their lives. Like my grandmothuh-"

"Good lord, not this story…" Nicky, who was sitting on the couch next to Frankie, moaned.

"My grandmothuh-God rest her soul- never took no medicine. Not uh, no sir! Every time Nonna got sick, she would stick it out and 'man-up'-"

"Considering that she's a woman…sort of," Nicky joked quietly, forcing a laugh out of Frankie.

"_Aye!_ My point! …Anyway, like I was sayin'-whenever I got sick, she'd tell me the same thing every time; '_Dura__fuori __e non respirare su di me.'"_

Nicky, Bobby and Frankie all looked at eachother in confusion, as Frankie repeated back to Tommy, " 'Tough it out, and... don't _breathe_ onme_'?"_

Tommy shrugged as replied, "Well _she _didn't wanna get sick! My point is, Frankie, sometimes you gotta do whatcha gotta do...even if ya feel like shit."

"But have you _felt _his forehead," Bobby added, "I mean, trust me when I say this- you could fry an egg on that thing! And all those lights on stage; he'll die of heatstroke-"

"And what are you, his mothuh?" Tommy replied, walking over to Frankie, "Look-let me check for myself, and if I think he's really comin' down with somethin'; then he stays home."

"Don't I got a say in this," Frankie added with a cough, "I mean, after all—"

"_Madon'ami!" _Tommy cried as he yanked his hand quickly away from his friends boiling forehead, "You weren't kiddin', Gaudio!" All of a sudden, Tommy went from 'Big-bad-business-Tommy' to 'strict, dad-of-the-group, Tommy'.

"There's no _way _you're perfomin' tonight!"

"What? Aw, c'mon, Tom- I'm fine!"

"No sir- not with that fever!"

"What evah happened to yeh grandmuthuh? '_Dura__fuori__'_, remember?"

"Nonna never had to tough out a fever like that! And, uh- oh, yeah- that reminds me, let's try to keep a 3-foot distance until yer all better, okay?"

"But I'm _**fine!**_" Frankie tried to scream, but his voice was so hoarse, it barely allowed him to go above a dull roar. "

"I feel- _Aah, eh, Uh'UH-HAI__**SHIOOO**__!"_

The force of Frankie's sneeze was so great, it scared Nicky out of his seat and onto the floor.

" *_sniff* _...g-great."

Frankie was so embarrassed; the guys had never seen him sick before. This was _humiliating_. You see, Frankie had whole list of pride issues, and letting other people know when he was sick topped it. He just wished he could crawl in a deep, dark hole and never come out. He just kept thinking to himself, _'It had to be tonight...'_

Giving up, Frankie moaned quietly as he hid his face in his hands. Each of the boys looked at eachother-feeling an equal amount of concern for their sick friend, until Bobby walked over to Frankie.

"Frank," Bob said quietly, " 's okay, pal-everybody gets sick. Nobody's gonna mind if ya miss one show-"

'_I can think of two people," _Frankie thought to himself before replying:

"But, Bobby," Frankie said with a cough, "It's like Tommy said... I _am _the show-"

"Way to be modest, Frankie," Nicky interrupted sarcastically with a smile.

"Look, Castelluccio," Tommy said seriously, "Ya sound like ya losin' yeh voice anyways, so what's the point in comin' tonight if ya can't sing?"

"But, but-"

"No _'buts'! _Francis Stephen Castelluccio, you are going to stay home and get a well-deserved rest! Understood?"

But Frankie didn't reply...he just looked down. Bob raised his eyebrow as he took notice of Frankie's reaction.

"There's more to this, isn't there?"

Frankie didn't respond to Bob. He just looked up, and then back down.

"_Frankie," _Bob said firmly, "_**Answer me.**__"_

Frankie sighed and nodded. He then cleared his throat before he spoke.

"Mary...was gonna bring Francine to see the show tonight for her birthday..."

The boys didn't know what to say- Frankie didn't get to see Francine _or _Mary much, and they wouldn't be back in Jersey for another 8 monthes! Subtle tears were forming in Frankie's eyes as he spoke.

"She was finally gonna get to see her old man up in action. But- _ASCHOO_!- *_sniff* _who'm I kiddin'? She's not gonna wanna see her Pop all faint and sick. And, you're right, Tom- I can't sing anyways...so what's the point?"

Bobby looked at Tommy, and Tommy looked at Nicky. None of them knew what to do. Just then, their drummer ran in.

"Okay, guys, the cab's here! We- woah..." he looked at Frankie as if he were a ghost, "You look _terrible._...You get mugged?"

"Do _you _wanna get mugged?" Tom intruded angrily. Scared by Tom's reaction, the drummer fled the basement and back up the stairs.

"Guess you guys better pack up," Frankie said, coughing, "Give 'em Hell tonight."

The boys packed up their guitars silently as they each thought about the sad perdicament Frankie was in. All packed, the boys said good-bye to Frankie who was laying on the couch with a blanket around him.

"Get some rest, Frankie," Bob dictated, "And be sure to drink lots of fluids!"

"Thanks, Ma," Frankie joked, and then said, with a wink, "Will do."

"Feel better, Frank," Nicky said, "We'll tell ya how the show went."

"Thanks, pal-_eh,HA'shoo!"_

"Take it easy, alright," Tom said, handing him a hanky, "We'll explain everything to Mary and Francine."

"Doubt they'll believe you, Devito," Frankie replied, blowing his nose. Sniffling, he laughed,"...better let Bobby tell her."

The two of them laughed as Tom headed up the steps. All alone, Frankie headed over to the calendar he had hanging up on the wall. Frankie always used the calendar to mark birthdays and upcoming shows, and he stared at today's date which read "_Francine's 5th Birthday". _He sighed sadly to himself as he allowed a tear to roll down his cheek. '_What a crummy birthday this'll turn out ta be.'_


	2. Chapter 2: Big Girls Don't Cry

The boys entered the room at quarter to ten to tons of excited people clapping and cheering. As the band set up their equipment and the boys tuned their guitars, they heard some chatter from the audience as to the whereabouts of Frankie.

"_What a jip! I paid good money to hear the 'Four' Seasons, not the 'THREE' Seasons!"_

"_Of all the crazy schemes: promising the whole dollar but coming up short a quarter!"_

"_Doesn't that Valli boy sing lead? What are we gonna listen to the whole time- ooh's and aah's?"_

"They…look less than happy," Bob whispered to Tommy.

"Yeah, ya _think," _Tommy growled back, "What's gonna happen with the songs- **I **can't hit those notes that Frankie can!"

"We'll just do it in a different key, then. Or use our head voices, or-"

"**Gaudio!"**

Looking down from the stage, Bob saw that at the first table to the right, Mary Delgado-er, _Valli-_ and Francine were sitting waiting for the show.

"Hi, Uncle Bob!" Francine cried happily.

"Hi, Francine! Oh, and happy birthday," Bob replied turning to the guys and alerting them 'happily' through clenched teeth, "Look who's here, guys."

Tommy and Nicky looked at each other and then at the bottom of the stage.

"Aw, shit…" Nicky said quietly.

"Relax. You and Bob talk to the kid, I'll talk to the bitch."

The boys hopped off the stage and were instantly greeted with a hug from little Francine.

"Hi, Uncle Tommy," she cheered as she grabbed tight to his leg.

"Aye, how ya' doin', honey," Tom replied, bending down to her level, "Happy Birthday!"

"Yeah," Nicky added, "The big oh-five!"

As Francine giggled, Tom looked at Nick with bitterness regarding the stupidity of his comment. He was about to say something insulting, when he remembered that a child was present.

"Uncle Tommy…where's Daddy?"

"Uh, uh- 'Daddy'? Um, well, he-"

"Yeah, Devito," Mary chimed in, clearly trying to hide her anger so not to upset Francine.

"Where is '_Daddy'_?"

"Look," Tom whispered, stepping away so Francine wouldn't hear, "Frankie got really sick before the show tonight, so he-"

"Nice try, Devito, but I want the TRUTH. Where is that lyin', cheatin', back-stabbin' son of a-"

"Actually, Mary," Bob intruded, and just in time, too! Tommy was near close to getting a fat lip.

"He's telling the truth. He's sick: _really _sick."

"And he even TOLD me you wouldn't believe me, so there's ya proof," Tommy added, gesturing to Bobby.

"He…he's sick," Mary repeated, ignoring Tom, "Well, what's 'e got? I mean, is he okay-"

"He'll be fine, he just-"

"AND NOW, LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, WE ASK YOU TO TAKE YOUR SEATS AS FRANKIE VALLI AN- wait a minute, what? Oh!- -AHEM, SORRY FOLKS! AS, ER, THE THREE SEASONS TAKE THE STAGE!"

"Look, we'll explain everything later," Bob said quickly, hopping back up on stage.

"Daddy's…not coming," Francine said quietly, "But…doesn't he know it's my birthday?"

"Aw honey, he knows," Tommy explained sadly, "He jus'- look, I-I gotta go. Your mom'll explain everything to you." And with that he hopped up on the stage. As he slung the guitar around his neck, he noticed down below him that little Francine was trying to hold back tears. She was also muttering something to herself…

"_What she-" _Tommy said to himself as he tried to read her lips.

"Hey, Bobby," Tom said as he continued to stare at Francine, "Can you understand what she's sayin'?

"Hmmm…"

Bob squinted his eyes and gasped when he finally realized what Francine was saying.

"What? What's she sayin'?"

"…Big girls don't cry."


	3. Chapter 3: The Big Surprise

The evening was going rather well, despite Frankie's absence. Every now and then, Tommy would wink over at Francine to make sure she wasn't too torn up over Frankie not being here. He was a tough-guy, but when it came to Francine…Tom was a softy. It was getting late, and the end of the evening was finally approaching.

"And now, ladies and gentlemen- the last song of the evening, 'December 1963'- OH, WHAT A NIGHT," the announcer called.

"_Shit," _Tommy exclaimed quietly to Bob as the crowd applauded, "Who's gonna do Frankie's part?"

"Too late for that now," Bob replied hastily, "I guess we'll cross that bridge when we come to it:

_Oh, what a night, late December back in '63  
>What a very special time for meeeee<br>As I remember what a niiiight!  
>Oh what a niiiight,<br>You know I didn't even know her name  
>But I was never gonna be the same<br>What a lady, what a night!"_

'_Oh, boy,' _Nicky thought, '_I guess if nobody else is gonna-'_

_"-Oh, Iiiii got a funny feeling when she waaaalked in the room  
>Aaaand Iiiii, as I recall it ended muuuuch too sooooooon."<em>

"_Frankie!"_

"_Look, hun- it's Frankie Valli!"_

"_Frankie Valli-in __person_!"

The crowd cheered and applauded as Frankie Valli-in person- walked onto the stage singing his part, uniform on and all! His band mates couldn't believe their eyes! Where did _he _come from? Bob was so excited; he forgot to sing his part! They all smiled and laughed as he took the stage. Frankie winked to them and then began searching the crowd to find his little girl smiling at him from the first table on the right, next to a very astonished Mary. He waved to them and then gave the signal back to the band to cut the music.

The crowd chattered curiously, and before Frankie could do what he set out to do, his crew surrounded him.

"Frankie, I- who- what- _huh?"_ Bobby babbled confusedly.

"What are you doin' here," asked Nicky.

"Yeah," Tommy added smacking Frankie's arm, "Ya' sick, numb-nuts!"

It was true-Frankie was still sick, and it showed. Though he had messily thrown on his uniform before walking into the room, his eyes were tired, his face pale as the moon and his knees were knocking so hard, he thought that somebody was going to answer them! But, still- he smiled.

"How do you feel?"

"You still got a fever?"

"Hold it, hold it," Frankie laughed gruffly, "Before I got no voice left, I gotta thing ta do."

With that, Frankie walked casually up to the front of the stage. He waited for the feedback of the microphone to die down before he spoke. The lights were, as they usually are, blinding, and, of course, hot as Hell. However, Frankie had to do this…for his little girl.

Just as Frankie was about to speak, a surprise sneeze snuck up on him;

"I-_eh, Hxch'oo!" _Frankie tried, but failed, to stifle his sneeze into the crook of his elbow, "_*sniff* _Sorry about that," he said, apologizing to the audience for that embarrassing display.

Tom, Bob, and Nick all cried, "Salud!" at the same time, as the audience laughed, and some even blessed him! Some applauded, and others (like Francine) just smiled.

"Well, at least now you see why I wasn't here the whole night. Now, _-ahem-_before I completely lose my voice, I just had somethin' very important to say to a very important person here in the audience. Tonight, a very special little girl has just turned five-years-old…and that special little girl-is my little girl."

'Awws' and applause filled the room, and little Francine was enjoying every minute of this.

"Francine," Frankie continued, "Honey, I know I'm not around much for you and Mommy, and I know that work gets between you and me a lot…but please know this, honey, that I love you and Mommy so much that without you two in my life, I'd be nothin'. In fact, you two are the reason I'm here tonight: otherwise I'd be at home, getting' drunk off of Nyquil."

As the audience laughed, Francine hopped off her chair and ran up on stage to hug Frankie.

"Daddy," Francine began, "When Uncle Tommy told me you couldn't come tonight, I was real sad. But then- I remembereded that song: and that 'big-girls-don't-cry'," just then, Francince started sniffling, "But –_sniff- _but then you came, an-and I got so happy, and…Daddy, is it okay if I cry now?"

"Why honey," Frankie asked, muffling a sneeze, "Why do you feel like crying?"

"Because," Francine said quietly, "This is the biggest, most bestest present _ever_."

Frankie looked into his daughter's glowing eyes. He smiled as a tear streamed down his face, and replied with the last of his voice he could muster, "It's your birthday, isn't it?"

Francine smiled as the tears came streaming down her face. Frankie got down on one knee and embraced his little girl. Nothing could bring him down now- not when he was holding his baby. The audience cheered and applauded, but Frankie didn't care: all that mattered was his moment with little Francine. Even after the audience left the room, he and Francine were still in their little moment of happiness.

"Francine, honey," Mary called, "Time to go home, birthday girl." She approached Frankie as he pulled away from his little girl.

"Bye Daddy," Francine said, giving him a kiss on the cheek, "This was the best birthday ever!"

As Francine scurried away, Mary called after her, "Francine, wait fah me at the car! Wait fah- oiy," she sighed. Frankie laughed as he watched Francine run off.

"Just like you, she is," Mary added, getting Frankie's attention, "You would know…if ya saw her more often."

Frankie looked deeply into his wife's eyes-something he had not done for a while. Same as Francine's: that beautiful shade of brown. He smiled as he stroked his hands through her hair. He was so captured by Mary's beauty that he almost didn't hear her when she spoke.

"Butcha know…ya did good, Daddy. Ya really made her birthday… _special._"

It wasn't often that Mary did this: she _never _had much of anything positive to say when it involved the group. Suddenly, Mary began unloosening his tie and smiled at him with that "look".

"And now," she said, getting closer to him, "It's _Daddy's _turn to get something special…"

Just as Frankie and Mary were about to kiss, Frankie turned his head just in the nick of time and let out a "_hah'Ishoo!" _into the crook of his right elbow. Mary laughed and handed him a hanky.

"Oh-hokay," she giggled, "We'll try that again _after _you're better. Now-" she said, fixing his tie back to the way he had it before (Bob, Nick, and Tom watching them now), "Go home, get plenty of rest, and _take it easy!_ Do ya hear me, Castelluccio? If you die on me, you got NO idea how pissed I'm gonna be, so take good care of yehself. Nod if ya understand me."

Frankie nodded and laughed, and turned around to find Bobby, Tommy, and Nicky nodding as well.

"We'll take good care of him for ya, Polly," Tommy called, using the nickname she _loathed._

"Ugh," she smugged as she straightened Frankie's jacket, "And another thing, try not ta spend too much time with Devito, okay?"

"I HEARD THAT!"

"YOU WERE MEANT TO!"

Just then, Francine ran into the room next to Mary, "Mommy, are you coming?" she pried, pulling on her skirt.

"In a minute, honey," Mary replied, kissing her husband on the head, "Ooh, Frank-yeh burnin' up," she said as Frankie cleared his aching throat. Francine took notice of the pained look on her Daddy's face.

"Daddy…if you're so sick, why didn't you stay in bed?"

Frankie looked at his wife, and then back to his daughter. He got down on his knees, cleared his throat, and said, as loudly as his voice would allow him, "_'Cuz it would spoil the big surprise."_

~FIN~


End file.
